


Haunted

by Not_You



Series: one only understands the things that one tames [29]
Category: Captain America: Winter Soldier, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Body Image, Breakfast, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fisting, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Memories, Platonic Kissing, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Team Feels, crying while masturbating is very depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:58:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's tough, being the one who doesn't have amnesia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunted

Steve had known Bucky for years before anything more than a few touches had passed between them. Bucky had knelt at Steve's feet to give him something to pet and someone to hold onto the day his mother died, and Steve had always been there when Bucky came to him wild-eyed and tense, ready to grip the back of Bucky's neck and take him down to where he could feel calm and safe. But it had just been friends looking after friends until the night Bucky came home drunk and knelt by Steve's bed, softly begging, “keep me,” over and over, voice starting to choke with tears. That night Steve had just hushed him and tugged at him until he climbed into bed, trembling as Steve curled around his back, nuzzling between his shoulderblades and breathing with him as his heart slowed.

The next morning Bucky had been hungover and embarrassed, but had assured Steve that he really meant it. “Seriously?” Steve had said, “Why me?” And Bucky had just laughed at him and started covering him in kisses. Steve smiles sadly in 2014, remembering how frustrating it had been every time he had wanted to throw Bucky down or slam him against the wall. Bucky had been so good for him, that strong, rangy body always utterly under Steve's control. The first time Steve had worked his entire hand into Bucky there had been no restraints, just Bucky holding rock stilll, breathing hard and covered with sweat while Steve told him how good he was being and made him take it. Afterward, Bucky had taken a long, long time to stop shaking, still whimpering helplessly with every breath, hips twitching from time to time, cock still half-hard. Steve had started to get worried at Bucky's dark and glassy eyes, and the inarticulate noises he had made in response to being asked for a color, but at last Bucky had started laughing, deep and happy.

“Y'know,” he had wheezed, grinning up at Steve, “this dom gal asked me once, why I stuck with you. Bitch will _never_ know.”

“Language, Bucky,” Steve had murmured, and that had made Bucky laugh until he had had a Steve-like coughing fit. Unlike Steve, he had emerged from it bright-eyed and grinning, and Steve had grinned back out of sheer relief. Here and now, a good seventy years later, Steve scrubs at his stinging eyes as they fill with tears. He's standing in the middle of the kitchen and he hates this, he hates it so much. Things may have changed for everyone else, but where Steve's from doms don't cry.

And then Clint and Natasha and Thor are there. Apparently all Asgardians switch and Dr. Jane Foster brings out the sub in Thor, and now he hugs Steve tightly, nuzzling his shoulder a little as Clint and Natasha press up against him, a wall of soothing warmth.

“Uh, what's up with the love-in?” Tony asks, wandering in late the way he always does to their monthly all-team breakfast.

“Our Captain's sorrow has broken over him anew,” Thor explains, and somehow that actually makes it sound okay. It's true, after all.

“Aw,” Tony says with more sympathy than Steve was honestly expecting, “that sucks.” Before Steve knows it Tony has joined in as well, arms around Clint and Natasha. 

Steve chuckles, and does his best to hug all four of them at once. “Thank you,” he says, his voice husky, and Tony grins at him.

“We gotta keep our fearless leader loved up.”

Sometimes Tony is so much like Bucky it hurts, but now Steve is grateful for it. He leans forward and kisses Tony's forehead, soft and sudden. Tony blushes, but for some reason it's not an awkward moment. It's just silly and comfortable and Steve almost feels like crying again with how grateful he is to have friends like these. And then they all smell the bacon burning, and Thor leaps to save it, grabbing the hot pan with invulnerable hands and setting it on the counter as Bruce comes wandering in. Tony goes to him and greets him with a lingering kiss that makes Steve blush and look away. He's still not used to how much people will do in front of each other these days, and Thor smiles sympathetically at him. Despite the vast differences in their backgrounds, they share the experience of being alien to the world as it is now.

Steve is all right for most of the rest of that day. He keeps himself together and doesn't even need to call Phil or his therapist, which is a marked improvement. But when he's alone in Clint's bed and waiting for Clint and Phil to get back, there's no way not to remember. He and Bucky hadn't had very long to test drive Steve's new body, but they had managed a few times. The first time Steve had picked Bucky up and shoved him up against the wall, Bucky had made a loud, high-pitched and helpless sound that Steve can still hear, his eyes huge and stunned. Steve had made him come just by grinding against him, eyes locked with Bucky's the whole time, commanding him not to look away.

Jerking off and crying at the same time is fucking pathetic, and doing it in someone else's bathroom is even worse. At least he makes it out of the bed, but sitting there on the floor of the shower stall when Clint knocks and very gently says that he needs to take a leak, Steve feels pretty fucking low.

“Hang on!”

“I can use another one, Steve, it's okay.”

“No, I'm fine,” Steve says, and wraps himself in a towel before opening the door. Clint's hand on his shoulder nearly makes him start crying again, but he manages to keep it together. Phil is sitting on the edge of the bed, peeling off his socks and garters. It always makes Steve feel better to know that at least one person is dressing pretty much the same as they would have done in his time. Steve sits beside him, hiding his face in Phil's shoulder before remembering that his hair is still wet. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It's okay,” Phil says, and gives him a one-armed hug, scratchy from the wool of his jacket.

Even sandwiched between Phil and Clint, with both of them holding him and with the warm beat of their hearts, Steve is almost too cold to sleep that night.


End file.
